III
The wind-flower blossomed long ago,
The crocus could not wait,
The homely doorstone rose is slow,
The milk-white stock is late.
The crocus could not wait,
The homely doorstone rose is slow,
The milk-white stock is late.
Then bring the wreaths of cherry blooms
The eyebright's tender shine,
The purple lilac's perfumed plumes,
And the splendor of columbine.
The eyebright's tender shine,
The purple lilac's perfumed plumes,
And the splendor of columbine.
Bring violets for the graves that grow
Green with the growing years,
Bring all the fragrant buds that blow
Wet with a nation's tears.
Green with the growing years,
Bring all the fragrant buds that blow
Wet with a nation's tears.
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